After 61 years, an unlikely reunion between Korean War veterans

Korean War veteran Jack O'Brien of Wilton holds up a newspaper article on fellow veterans August "Gus" Angerame and Frank DiBella, who were reunited at the Northport Veterans Affairs Medical Center when they were placed in the same room.
(ED BURKE, eburke@saratogian.com)

Korean War veteran Jack O'Brien of Wilton holds up a newspaper article on fellow veterans August "Gus" Angerame and Frank DiBella, who were reunited at the Northport Veterans Affairs Medical Center when they were placed in the same room.
(ED BURKE, eburke@saratogian.com)

WILTON -- Jack O'Brien put his life on the line with fellow Korean War veterans August "Gus" Angerame and Frank DiBella.

In a strange twist of fate, his two old friends have been reunited in a Long Island nursing home after 61 years, the subject of an upcoming CBS Evening News feature story.

His buddies will be shown wearing two specially made red hats -- a gift from O'Brien -- signifying their service in the Army's 68th Anti-aircraft Artillery Battalion.

"We all joined at the same time," said O'Brien, 82, of Wilton, who previously lived on Long Island. "We got thrown into field artillery and were assigned to support the 1st Cavalry. Then we were with the British 20th Brigade, then the 24th Division. We bounced all over, wherever they needed us."

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O'Brien kept tabs with DiBella, an Army cook, through the years, but hasn't seen Angerame, a medic, in half a century. Recently, however, Angerame's son, John, contacted O'Brien through the Korean War Project website, seeking information about his father's military service.

Gus Angerame was wounded and still carries shrapnel in his knee, but he never got a Purple Heart, a long overdue honor that his son wants Angerame to finally realize.

Both DiBella and Angerame suffer from dementia, quite possibly from their experience in the artillery.

"Their unit took a lot of incoming fire," John Angerame said. "Plus, they were firing a 90 mm Howitzer. It's believed that repeated concussions to the brain can cause dementia."

Angerame took up residency at the Northport Veterans Affairs Medical Center several years ago. DiBella moved there last November.

In May, strictly by coincidence, Angerame and DiBella became roommates.

At first, they didn't seem to know each other, although John says hospital staff noticed that his father had stopped by DiBella's room several times.

"He would walk around the ward checking up on guys just like a medic would," he said.

John finally made the connection when he noticed old photos over DiBella's bed showing the same anti-aircraft battalion to which his father belonged.

"The story went through the hospital like wildfire," he said. "Everybody wants to know about this, especially veterans."

Newsday recently ran a two-page feature under the headline, "Buddies Again: Army veterans reunited by chance after 60 years."

"The next thing I know, CBS called," John Angerame said. "They were stunned by the story. They're focusing on the way they ended up as roommates."

A film crew spent six hours with Angerame and DiBella on Tuesday. The segment is hosted by CBS reporter Steve Hartman, who does the news broadcast's "On the Road" series. Barring a conflict from next week's Republican National Convention or Tropical Storm Isaac, it will air at 7 p.m. Friday, Aug. 31, on the CBS Evening News.

Hartman's human interest stories are typically the last piece shown each Friday night.

O'Brien had the red 68th Battalion hats made before he knew his friends were going to be on television. He ordered them from Clare's Embroidery on Geyser Road in Saratoga Springs.

"It was perfect timing," John Angerame said. "They look like they're in uniform."

Gus Angerame and DiBella can't communicate verbally because of their dementia, but family members say their actions -- an occasional touch and close companionship --speak louder than words.

All three -- O'Brien, Angerame and DiBella -- were at Fort Bliss, Texas, together for training with the 68th Anti-aircraft Battalion, which had been reactivated after World War II. Next, they went to Fort Lewis, Wash., thinking they might be headed to Alaska.

But their fates took a dramatic turn with the outbreak of hostilities in Korea on June 25, 1950. Three months later, the young soldiers found themselves in the middle of a war. One of their most harrowing experiences was the ocean voyage overseas aboard the USS General Black, a ship that had previously carried displaced German Jews to Israel after World War II.

O'Brien traveled the whole length of the Korean Peninsula during his stint there -- one year, four months, seven days -- from Pusan in the South to within 16 miles of the Manchurian border.

"When we went up north it was bitter," he said. "Not just cold. Bitter."

Combat?

"Not a lot, but enough," O'Brien said.

John Angerame said his father was wounded during the Battle of the Bowling Alley (Aug. 12-25, 1950), so named because of the narrow valley where it took place near Taegu, South Korea.

"He got hit in both knees," he said. "He was the medic, so he just treated himself and went on helping the wounded because he didn't want to leave the field. That's why he never reported it and never got the Purple Heart."

Without such documentation, the military requires at least two personal witnesses to verify the incident. That's why John is searching desperately to find anyone who might have fought alongside his father.

However, most surviving Korean War veterans are in their 80s and many artillery members suffer from dementia, like his father, he said.

U.S. Rep. Peter King of Long Island has tried to help Angerame get his well-deserved recognition. To date, however, nothing has come of it.

"That's a story within the story of their reunion," John Angerame said.

An unexpected helping hand

WILTON -- Almost every soldier has a war story, some funny incident from their time in the service.

Jack O'Brien has several, but one in particular stands out.

"You don't remember days," he said. "You remember incidents."

One unforgettable moment came on a brutal Korean winter day with sleet and hail falling all around.

O'Brien's outfit was pulling a large anti-aircraft gun with a tank-like vehicle along a slow, muddy road. A truck carrying soldiers was part of the group and its wooden sides were closed up to shield them from the weather.

Before long, some men were overcome by exhaust fumes. After stopping the truck, O'Brien, a sergeant, called for medics. After taking a head count, he noticed one soldier sitting on a snow bank in the freezing cold, about 100 yards back along the road.

"He had his overcoat wrapped around him like a blanket," O'Brien said. "He had taken off his stocking hat and helmet. I thought he was sick, so I rubbed the back of his neck."

Then O'Brien asked the soldier how he felt.

"Fine," he said. "But Sarge, that's the first time anybody rubbed the back of my neck while I was going to the bathroom."